Red
by Noxid Anamchara
Summary: Red was the color of all the blood he'd lost when he'd had to cut his fuckin' arm off. Red was the only color he saw when he wanted to fuck somebody up. And Red was the only other thing he wanted in his life other than Daryl. Cos she knew exactly who he was. [My take on what happens after Merle escapes from the roof. Woodbury characters present.]
1. Dreams

**Nox**: Kittens I bring you my Vixen. If you'd like to get to know her _before _all of this then that means you need to head over to **The Bad, the Ugly, and the Dixons;** Ch 22, 24. Not necessary to read though. Would be nice all the same.

I've been harboring this bad girl for a _long_ time. This isn't intended to be AU, but I use the time between those winter months to my advantage. That is where this is set.

I owe a lot to **letmefallasleep** - this would not have taken off like it did if she hadn't been here to encourage me, and to give me her input when_ever _I needed to pick her brain. You are my favorite person to go to for Merle. Go check out her Merle/OC story** Cajun Queen** when you get the chance. It deserves all the love and affection.

_The Walking Dead_ belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

**Rated: **M for Merle's foul mouth, Bigotry, Racism and Sex - I won't be putting any more ratings up in further chapters. Merle is self-explanatory.

* * *

Dreams

_He kept sawing and sawing and _sawing_. And the god damn hand just wouldn't come off. Damn hand, damn pipe, damn fuckin' hacksaw. He was fuckin' stuck. All he needed was fer this fuckin' saw to fuckin' _work.

"_Don't need ya," he panted, feeling dizzy, mouth stuffed with cotton balls. _

"Come on brother." _He ignored him, moving the blade, every tooth of the edge bumping over the bone like the twitch he had in his left eye. Sweat dripped down his face, makin' his skin itch. Weren't gonna let nothin' stop him from gettin' outta here.  
_

_He'd already been left behind, weren't gonna waste no more time with nothin' else. _

"Should a cut the damn pipe."

"_Fuckin' know that! Already tried ya little smartass!"_ _he screamed, looking up to find no one there. He blinked once, and then started sawing again, this time with renewed strength. _

_Goddamn little shit comin' round like that. Talkin' like he knew somethin'. Little brother was always talkin' like he knew shit, always tryin' to make him feel worse than he already did. _

_He was always doin' what he could. Fuck everyone, he always did what he could. People always be assumin' he didn't know shit cos a what he looked like, or what he fuckin' said. _

_Shit, he couldn't even remember really what he'd done to them fuckin' pussies. _

_But goddammit. Did they had to leave him cuffed to some fuckin' roof with those dead fuckin' geeks just snappin' to get at him? He weren't no wild animal, foamin' at the mouth. Hell he could show'em what that looked like.  
_

_He growled as the hacksaw bumped and scraped along his bone. _

"_Fuck it," he mumbled, and grabbed his wrist. He took a deep breath, counted to two, and then snapped it. _

_He couldn't stop the scream that ripped from him, or the blood that poured from the wound like a pipe that burst. He grit his teeth, and finished sawin' the motherfuckin' thing off. He had nothin' to lose now. He'd already lost the hand, and he'd already lost too much blood. _

_Fuckin' hand had to go. _

_So he sawed through the tendon that was still left, and the bone that jutted out through his skin. Was fuckin' sick, and he felt the world spin for a moment at the sight. But then the saw slipped through the last bit a skin and the hand was gone._

_The minute the hand dropped to the ground, he screamed out, and jumped up. He'd never felt so fuckin' free before. And he'd done that his fuckin' self. He teetered for a minute, and then held his arms out, and turned around. _

"_Tha's right bitches!" He went to the edge of the building, stood up on the edge. "Merle's fuckin' free!" And then the door started bangin' again, hands reachin' through the cracks. His vision hazed and his legs went limp beneath him. _

_He laughed as he stepped off the ledge, moving for the other side of the building, blood dripping from the stump. _

_"Don't need no one to save me," he murmured, vision hazy. "Merle don't need _no one_." But he couldn't stop himself from seein' the piercin' gaze of those blue eyes from starin' back at him, or that voice from callin' out to him. _

"Never alone brother." _He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and continued to stumble forward, pushin' passed the sudden guilt. _

"_Merle's comin' fer ya," he muttered, zigzagging across the roof, and down the side. _

"Merle."

_He stumbled down the escape ladder, to the other building. He shimmied into the window. Buncha dead freaks in there too. Ugly sumbitches. _

"Merle," someone breathed into his ear as a hand ghosted across his hips, across the scars. He tried to hold onto whatever it was he was rememberin'. But didn't want to all the same. He loved what that hand was doin'.

"Yer dreamin' Cowboy," she whispered, resting her hand on his side and pressing her body flush against his. _Fuck_.

Dreamin'. He brought his arm up, resting his short arm against his eyes, groanin'. Goddamn dream. He'd been havin' the same one for the past couple a weeks now. She licked his ear, sending a moan passed his lips. His thoughts scattered as her hand trailed over his stomach and under his waistband.

"Fuck Red," he grunted as her fingers curled around his cock. He turned on his side, wrapping both of his arms around her, gripping her hair in his hands.

"Shh," she whispered, stroking him twice, "I'll help ya forget," and his lips captured hers, sucking on her bottom lip viciously. He didn't even bother to open his eyes as her hand stroked him, back and forth, sending a groan through him.

"Ya know I hate that fuckin' name," he forced out, burying his face in her neck, nibbling the soft flesh between her shoulder and throat. A breathy laugh escaped her, and she gripped him softly, and he jerked in her hand. He reached down to grip her ass hard, as his hips moved with her. Her other arm wrapped around his neck, her hand burying in his short-cropped hair, and massaging his scalp.

He hissed as her thumb circled over the head. He was gonna cum. He was gonna cum and he wasn't even inside the bitch. Woman was a god damn _sin_.

"I want you inside a me, Merle," she growled, releasing him suddenly and pushing him down, climbing over his chest. She raked her nails over him, over his nipples and she leaned down to capture his lips with hers. Her tongue twisted with his, roving over the roof of his mouth, and he growled.

Hell if he were gonna let this shit fly.

He flipped her over, kneelin' between her legs and looked down on her. At her red hair splayed out over the pillow, her flushed cheeks, her bare chest heavin'. _God was she fuckin' beautiful_. And that was the problem, sleepin' naked like she did. She was always ready fer him, like she was his fer the takin'.

"You talk like that, yer askin' fer it," he murmured, reaching up to stroke the skin at her shoulder. The memory a that scar's history was still fresh in his mind. Her hand curled around his arm, an' he could see her eyes go distant, a small smile on her lips. But then she reached down between her open legs, strokin' herself. He felt himself get harder.

"I said I wanted ya Merle," she moaned huskily, hookin' a leg around his back an' pullin' herself closer to his cock. He bumped against her hand and they both groaned in unison.

He chuckled, and yanked her up against him, his hand and arm splayed out against her scarred back. She smiled, lickin' her fingers clean an' then wrapped her arms around his neck, her tits rubbin' up against his chest. She moved her chest up and down, her hard nipples rubbin' against him, her eyes slidin' closed at the motion. Her nipples rakin' against his skin made his blood run hot, made his cock throb. God _damn _did he love what she could do.

"Then I'm gonna fuck ya," he growled, watchin' her work herself wet. He pulled his shorts down and she twisted her ass until she slid over him, the breath escapin' him at her tight, hot pussy closin' over him. He lowered her to the bed, thrustin' into her gently all the way to his balls. He groaned and buried his face in her neck as she wrapped her legs round his hips.

"Red hot," he murmured into her, and she laughed breathlessly.

_XXX_

"She's gone."

He turned to look at the Governor, feelin' a growl work its way up his throat. _Gone_. What the fuck did that mean? Like she were dead gone? Bit gone? _Walker_ gone?

"Hell you mean she's _gone_?"

Or gone as in…

He watched the Doc exchange a look with the Governor, one she would a snorted at and called'em out on. Woman was always gettin'em in trouble. Prob'ly why he…

"Merle, we know you two were close." Now it was his turn to snort sarcastically. Assholes didn't know the _meanin' _a close when it came to them. Woman knew just how to stroke him in _all _the right places.

He felt his pants tighten, an' he cleared his throat before their morning tussle came rushing back to him.

"Doesn't explain what the fuck happened to'er," he barked out, feeling somethin' else slither its way through him. They were avoidin' his fuckin' question, avoidin' lookin' at him.

Gone meant a lot a fuckin' things an' they didn't need to sit there and coddle his ass.

_Shit_. And he was worried. They weren't tellin' him somethin' and he was fuckin' _worried_. He started pacing, runnin' a hand over his head. He'd never worried bout her 'fore. Never _needed_ too. She'd always been right there where he could keep his goddamn eye on her. Hell, he knew she could take care a herself so what the hell had happened?

"What the hell happened?" he yelled, watching as the little monkey, Milton, flinched in fear. He loved the way the little creep was scared a him. Governor sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

"She volunteered to go on a run this morning," he offered sympathetically.

This morning. This morning he'd fucked the shit outta her. This morning she'd been in his bed, givin' him everything that he'd ever wanted. This morning he'd never wanted anything more than _her_.

_Volunteered_. Like his woman volunteered to do fuckin' _anything_. The only fuckin' thing she volunteered her services fer was to fuck him. And if she didn't want to fuck, hell she'd let him know.

Fuck no, his woman didn't volunteer fer shit.

Somethin' bout this weren't right, and it made his neck itch.

"We was together this mornin'," he said gruffly, unsure of what this all meant. Governor stepped forward, lips pinched together tight. He looked like he was fuckin' sorry fer somethin'. But he'd learned better. The Governor was never fuckin' sorry. The Governor always knew what was happening in his fuckin' house. That look meant somethin' _else_.

"Martinez said it all happened fast-" He turned on his heel, not even bothering to finish listenin' to what the Governor had to say.

_Martinez. _That fuckin' beaner thought he was some kind a hot tamale and that _his fuckin' woman_ wanted a piece a that.

"Merle!"

He just kept walkin', movin' fast, ignorin' little Miltie. He was gonna beat the shit out a that asshole, if it was the last thing he ever fuckin' did. No one was gonna stop him.

Man just hadn't been able to keep his hands to his self. Talkin' to her, touchin' her, _lookin_' at her. Couldn't keep his hands off a what was _his_. And he wasn't gonna stand by and let that go no longer.

He'd find his fuckin' answers. He'd find his woman.

_His arm hurt like fuckin' hell. Burnin' the shit had been a dumb fuckin' idea, but at the time? Hell, he didn't know what else to do. Shit kept bleedin', an' he was losin' feelin' all up his arm. Couldn't stop himself from screamin' neither. Could hear the damn geeks comin' an' he knew he had to go. Had to keep movin'. Mothafuckers just wouldn't give'im a break._

"_On ya feet Marine," he mumbled to himself, teetering slightly. And then he laughed, manically, an' slapped his forehead, again and again. _

"_Jar heads couldn't handle ol' Merle," he crowed, stumbling forward. _Nobody _could handle ol' Merle. _

_And he hauled his ass out the window, catchin' his side on the broken glass, an' stumbled out. Fuckin' freedom. 'Officer Friendly' thought he could lock his ass up on that roof, leave'im to die? They thought they'd gotten rid a him? They thought he was gonna die up there on that fuckin' roof?  
_

"_Got another thing comin'!" Merle Dixon weren't no goddamn pussy. Assholes thought they could git away with this? They was wrong._

_"'Nother thing comin'," he muttered with a grin._

* * *

**A/N:** I would never use the term 'Jar Head' because it's really negative towards Marines, unless they choose to use it themselves. I have Marines in my life and I respect them, and I support them. Thank them, thank you _all _for your service. But for the purpose of this fic, Merle is delusional, and therefore being himself. Tell me what ya think. Real shit starts next chapter, swear.


	2. Ghost

**Nox**: Love you guys (and your reviews) for being here, really do. This chapter will appease all of the Merle fans out there though, I _promise_. Thank you **letmefallasleep **and **BrazenHussy. **Raylene and this story sort of go _nowhere _without you guys, haha.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Ghost

_Months Earlier…_

"Ya know what they say," he muttered, the heat swarmin' him, sweat tricklin' down his face. A fly was buzzin' round his head but he couldn't see the thing to swat it away.

"Karma's a mothafuckin' slut." He laughed, head tippin' to the side, back and forth. "She worth the fuck ya paid fer?"

His eyes closed, and he breathed deep. He lifted up the stump, cracking his eyes open, and smirked. "Shit, only til ya git the clap."

He'd wrapped the stump in a shirt, somethin' he'd found lyin' in the bed a the truck when he'd gotten there. Shit was _tight_. Pulled an' burned, an' felt like he wanted to cut it off _again_. Couldn't even tell if it stopped bleedin' or not.

What he wouldn't give for his fuckin' stash right then. To lose himself in the free-fallin' high an' to not know what the hell was goin' on. What he wouldn't give to _forget_.

"Can't forget."

Merle didn't even turn to the voice at his side. Ignored it like he'd been doin' the entire drive here. Kept tellin' himself it weren't there, weren't real, weren't _him_.

"Goin' back there?" Merle laughed as his vision swam, the road before him lookin' like it just went on an' on, like a big black belt. He fuckin' _hated _belts. Hated everything they fuckin' stood fer, everything they reminded him of.

"Ya know it ain't home. Home's with me." Merle whirled then, lockin' eyes with a face he hadn't seen in _years_. He reached out to grab him by the neck but couldn't. Didn't have no goddamn hand no more. He cursed, slamming his arm against the truck bed, and then he cursed again as pain shot up his arm.

"Fuck," he growled out.

Daryl looked down at the stump, quiet, and then back up at him. Couldn't believe his fuckin' eyes. Couldn't believe he was lookin' in the face of a teenage Daryl. Eyes still bluer than he'd ever seen'em.

"Course, ya never did stay with me," Daryl murmured, turning to face the windshield, slouching in his seat. He brought his knees up on the seat, tight against his chest. Merle could remember all the times he'd watched Daryl, all the times he'd seen his little brother sittin' like that. Daryl was always tryin' to bury the shit inside himself, tryin' to find that hole to disappear into.

Merle _hated _it.

"I couldn't," Merle ground out, tryin' to focus on the face of his little brother. And then Merle watched as blood blossomed on Daryl's lip, and a bruise appeared on his face.

"No, no," he muttered, shaking his head. How many times had he fought to protect Daryl? How many times had he taken those hurts and pains onto hisself just so Daryl wouldn't have to know'em?

"Don't mean I didn't pay fer it," Daryl whispered hoarsely. Merle felt his throat tighten, watching Daryl's face mottle up with bruises, burn marks show up on his arms, his shoulders slowly beginning to cave further in.

Merle knew he'd made fuckin' mistakes. He'd done things he couldn't take back. He'd _left _when he shouldn't have. He was one, big, fucking mistake and there weren't nothin' he could change bout that now.

"Daryl, I didn't want-" And then Daryl was gone. Nothin' in the seat next to him, nothin' on the road. He was alone again. Nothin' to keep him company, nothin' to talk to him. He'd been alone his whole damn, and now it weren't no damn different.

He was _always_ alone.

Merle sat back, silent for a moment. Watched a piece of paper tumble across the road as the wind drifted through the open window. Felt fuckin' _good_ on his face, as the sweat dripped down his nose, hovered on his lashes.

_Sweat_ goddammit, coz it weren't nothin' _but _sweat and he sure as hell weren't lettin' it be nothin' but sweat. Coz Dixons didn't fuckin' _cry_.

Fuck if his eyes didn't burn. He couldn't even find the strength to wipe it away.

And then he laughed, high, uncontrollable, until his throat was raw and he couldn't stay conscious no more.

**XXX**

"Merle." Merle groaned, holdin' onto the darkness for a bit longer. Darkness didn't hurt. "Merle," the voice called with more urgency. He felt somethin' shake his shoulder, and he tipped over till he dropped against the door-frame.

"Fuckin' touch me!" he barked, swingin' out with his arm, head dizzy. When he opened his eyes, he found he couldn't see straight so he just closed'em again. Everything was just swimmin'.

"Gotta go Merle," Daryl whispered desperately next to him. He cracked an eye open, took in the sight of his brother, just a kid now, lookin' out the windshield. Kid looked like hell, looked he was ready to run. Face gaunt, gangly limbs, legs that never stopped movin'. Kid never sat still. Course, Merle couldn't blame him. Ya got to be pretty fast when ya didn't know where the next hit was comin' from. Ya never stopped _watchin' _for it.

"Can't go," he croaked out, unable to keep his eye open. Didn't have the strength to do nothin', let alone move. He let his head fall back, listenin' to Daryl shift beside him. Kid was nervous.

"But _he's_ comin' Merle," Daryl whispered, so low that Merle wasn't sure he'd heard him. He snorted. He knew exactly who Daryl was talkin' bout, an' hell if was gonna run an' hide with his tail tucked 'tween his legs like some goddamn pussy. He'd faced that old motherfucker a thousand times before, and he'd face him a thousand more times to come. Wouldn't let no fuckin' wasted, old shit scare him off. Not when Daryl was right there, scared as all hell, and beggin' for _him_.

"If he's comin' then he's comin' fer me," he forced out. He was thirsty as fuck. Needed a goddamn drink. Hell, he could use a tall glass a somethin' cold. First time he'd ever thought he'd take water without complaint.

"But Merle-" Daryl whined, sounding scared. Merle didn't like hearin' that in his voice. Never wanted to hear his brother sound like that; like he was so scared and there was nothin' that could change that.

_He _could change that. Merle had _always _tried to be there, when he was. Maybe he hadn't _always _but dammit if he hadn't tried his fuckin' best. Just didn't know how to do that was all.

"Shut up Daryl. I'll take care a it." He weren't gonna let nothin' happen to Daryl. Not long as he was there. He felt Daryl shift closer to him, his small hands fidgeting next to him.

"Ya will?" He opened his eyes at the sound a that voice. The one that sounded so small and weak and made him want to do all the fucked up things he knew he could to they ol' man. The stuff he _never _actually did. He hated himself for that. Hated that he never actually took care a they ol' man like he shoulda.

He put his arm round Daryl and pulled him close, smilin' down at him, weakly.

"Course I will, lil brother," he muttered, feelin' his eyes drift shut, a smile still on his face. "Always take care a ya." Always _tried_, he thought to himself miserably.

He drifted off into blackness to the sound of Daryl's voice followin' him.

"Can't do somethin' ya don't wanna."

**XXX**

"Git the fuck up Merle." He was fuckin' _tired_ of bein' yelled at. Tired of bein' woken up, tired of bein' thirsty, tired of his goddamn arm _hurtin'_.

"Shut the fuck up Darylina." He tried to swallow but couldn't. He opened his eyes, looked around the truck for somethin', _anything _to drink and came up short.

"Goddammit!" He slammed his palm against the steering wheel, hitting the horn. The sound tore through his head and he curled into himself, hand clamped over one ear, groaning.

"Dumbass." He didn't even have the strength to fight back. Just opened his eyes.

He was shit outta luck. He was gonna die, out here, in the middle a nowhere. He didn't even know where _here _was, didn't know where he'd been headed. Just started drivin'. He'd been a the mind to head back fer Daryl, tell him they was gettin' their shit and gettin' out.

He weren't gonna stay with them goddamn uppity city fucks that thought he was _trash_. And he weren't gonna leave Daryl behind neither.

But somehow he'd ended up out here. Drove himself through some haze. Drove himself on and on with the thought that Daryl already _was _with him. How fuckin' stupid was he? How fucked in the head had he been? Daryl was always tellin' him not to get too fucked up.

_Fuckin' Darylina. _

"I told ya not take the backroads," Daryl said next to him, lookin' smug. The growl slipped passed his lips, weak and pathetic.

"The hell ya mean backroads?" Daryl waved to the woods next to them, just a few yards off the road. Suddenly, shit was startin' to look familiar.

"Yer the dumbass who told me you knew how to git home," Daryl said smartly. And then Merle took a good look at the road, at the mile marker, at the goddamn mountains rising up ahead of him. He _was _a dumbass. Fuckin' shit for brains.

"Fuck!" Daryl just stared at him, silent, unmoving. Like he knew exactly what had happened. Like some smart-ass.

"Fuck! FUCK!" He was a goddamn idiot. He was fuckin' stupid. What the hell had he been thinkin' when he got to drivin' yesterday?

He slammed his head against the steering wheel and let everything spin. He _hadn't_ been thinkin' that was what.

"Fuck," he gritted out, softer this time. He was fuckin' _stupid_. He was stupid fer thinkin' he could drive in this state. Fuckin' stupid for thinkin' he could do anything like this. Fuckin' stupid for ever leavin' Daryl behind to begin with.

"Got yer head on straight now?" Merle looked at him, felt the anger boil inside, and watched as Daryl leaned away slowly.

"You did this to me," he said, dangerous, low, feeling all the shit come down around him. His chest was gettin' too tight fer him to _breathe_. He was done for, and he was fucked, and it fuckin' hurt because Daryl wasn't even here and he was fuckin' _hallucinatin' _his little brother! How fuckin' desperate was he?

"You did this to me!" Merle roared. Daryl just shook his head, opening up the passenger door to climb out and slammin' it shut behind him. He stood outside, lookin' in through the window. His eyes burned bright, bluer than the sky on a cloudless day when the sun was at its highest. Merle wanted to turn away from those blue eyes, filled with so many years of pain, and hatred, and _suffering_. Years of suffering that he'd done nothing to stop. Years of suffering that he'd _escaped _from himself.

He _hated _himself for that. Carried that guilt like the scars on his back; forever a part of him and _ugly_.

"Did this to yaself brother," Daryl said calmly, eyes fixed to him. Blaming him. _Hating_ him.

He blinked the sweat from his eyes, the goddamn _sweat_ coz it weren't nothin' _but_ sweat, and he were about to bitch Daryl out fer blaming him fer anything when all he'd ever tried to do was keep his shit straight. Tried to do the best he could in that fucked up situation. And when his eyes opened again, he was gone.

"Daryl?" he croaked hoarsely. Weren't nothin' around. He was _alone. _

Daryl was gone, like some ghost. He'd never been there to begin with had he.

But Daryl was _always_ gone. He'd never been able to keep Daryl with him. When he were a kid, when he'd come home from the Marines, when they'd gotten old. He was always losin' his brother one way or the other.

And now he had nothin'. There weren't nothin' for him. No geeks. No humans. The road stretched on in the distance, the heat waves rollin' off the black top. And the trees to his left sat like sentries, still, not even a breeze to coax them to life.

Why was it so fuckin' hot?

"Merle-" he turned to the voice, gun raised and fired. No hesitation.

Blood spattered inside the truck, and the body fell to the ground. He was breathing heavy, lids closin' faster than he could think.

"Shit," he muttered. He didn't even think about it. Somebody had called his damn name, and what'd he do? Shot the damn bastard.

"Daryl?" Nothin'. Not a goddamn answer. Just the silence he'd been sittin' in all this time, the silence that ate at him. "Daryl!" But he didn't answer him.

"Fuck!" What if he just shot Daryl? What if he just shot the only person he'd cared bout in this whole fuckin' world? What if he _killed_ the only person who gived a fuckin' damn about _him_? He let his arm fall to the door, the gun hanging out the window.

He slammed his the gun against his head, once, _twice_ and then groaned in pain. It hurt, it fuckin' hurt like _hell, _but it weren't nothin' to the pain in his chest.

He was done. He was fuckin' _done. _Didn't have the strength for nothin' no more. He didn't even_ know _who he shot, an' fer all he fuckin' knew it could a been Daryl, an' now he was dead all coz he couldn't keep his fuckin' shit together.

"Goddammit!" he cried letting his head fall against the steering wheel, feeling the sweat roll down his back.

He was a dead man. Weren't no way he was gonna make it nowhere. Weren't no way he was ever gonna survive without Daryl. Without Daryl, he had nothin'. Without Daryl _he _was nothin'. Just some washed up, used, ol' Marine who couldn't stop usin' an' who couldn't stop bein' a monster to the only person who mattered.

If Daryl weren't in this world no more then he didn't have shit to live for in this world.

He was _done. _

He felt the gun slide through his fingers, and the door slip open.

"The hell?" he muttered weakly as he tipped to the side, unable to hold his body up any longer, not _carin'_ too, as his vision blurred. Weren't nothin' he could do bout it now. If he was gonna die, he was gonna die fightin'.

Sonuvabitch slipped into his view an' he grabbed'em by the neck, chokin'em. Couldn't see straight but he could tell it was just a little shit. Hand closed over that neck easy, fingers curlin' tight.

"Hold on Cowboy," they gasped out. _The fuck?_ He just hear that right?

He uncurled his fingers slightly, tried to focus his eyes. Nobody called him that. Fuckin' _nobody_. Hell, only _one_ person could git 'way with that shit. He could just make out all that red hair. Searched for the face, an' stared.

"Well twist ma balls, an' stroke me twice," he croaked out, not believin' what he was seein'. She smirked, as her hands clutched at his arm.

"Wanna let me go, sweet thing?" He didn't miss the way her voice caught on the end as she gasped out for breath, her fingers clutching his arm tighter.

He wanted to say somethin', was about to cuss her out, wanted to kiss the fuck outta those beautiful lips. Couldn't pick which one he wanted to do, or if wanted to do all three. But he didn't get to do shit as he dropped back into the sweet blackness.

* * *

**A/N**: Updates will be when I get to'em, sorry folks. Lots of other ficlets on my plate. Thank you for all the love!


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